


Synchronicity

by katherine_tag



Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Damsels in Distress, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mission Fic, Seriously Old Fic, rurouni kenshin fusion, the author digs in her archives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-01-01
Updated: 2001-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:00:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 12,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22065904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katherine_tag/pseuds/katherine_tag
Summary: A Weiss Kreuz/Rurouni Kenshin fusion where the boundaries of the real world and the dream world dissolve. Aya is having strange dreams, sleeping and waking. Weiss must fight against a man bent on taking over the world, and an old enemy drops in for a visit.





	1. Beginings

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote WK fanfiction between 2001 and 2004. Just posting here so it's all in one place. This is actually the first fic I ever posted anywhere.
> 
> Author's note recreated for posterity: This is a fusion of WK and RK. I've only come across two or three other stories that were crossovers between those two particular anime, and I was inspired to try my hand at writing my own. (You can find Jo-chan's fic here, and the others somewhere on ff.net) If you like it, drop me an e-mail!
> 
>  _blah_ = thoughts; /blah/ = mental conversation
> 
> WARNING: If you don't want to know what happens in the Rurouni Kenshin OAVs (or Samurai X), I would suggest you stop reading this fic as it WILL contain spoilers. Of course, if you haven't watched it you might not understand exactly what the meaning of some events are, but you should be able to follow the plot quite easily.

He had been fighting, no, killing again. His body shook with the effort of standing up straight. He was breathing heavily with his exertion. A fitful breeze blew his long hair behind him, and the rain in his eyes. It brought the stench of death with it. He brushed some of his unruly hair out of his eyes. The samurai's ponytail that he wore did nothing to keep it out of his face. He looked down at the street.

His targets lay all around him. His sword dripped with their blood. Unconsciously he flicked the blood off and sheathed it at his side. The blood ran into the gutters, swirling out of sight with the rain. His hand moved up to touch the cross scar on his cheek. It throbbed every time he made a kill. His hand came away slick with his own blood.

 _Long hair? Cross scar?_ Aya sat up suddenly in bed, gasping for air. He could feel the sweat running down his neck. His hand moved on its own to touch his cheek. Smooth. No scar. _What the hell was that about?_ He had strange dreams and yes, nightmares often, but never a dream like that. Mostly they were about his sister's accident. He shuddered at the carnage that had been before him. What scared him most was that he was the one who had brought it about. He had killed all those people.

He shook his head. That shouldn't have scared him. He had killed people before as an assassin in Weiss. Why should this dream terrify him so much? He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but how he felt in that dream, and how he felt when he was carrying out his orders from Persia were two very different things.

Well, he wasn't going to be able to sleep now. He glanced at the clock. 3:15AM. _Great. And the others wonder why I'm so grumpy all the time._ He grimaced. _Might as well go watch T.V. or something._

He wandered out into the living room of their shared apartment above the flower shop. Idly, he wondered if Youji had gotten back from his "hot date" yet. At least he would have someone to talk to. He would never admit it, but he did enjoy his teammates' company every once in a while.

Aya peered into the kitchen. No Youji. Well, all right then. He'd just get himself something to drink and go sit in front of the T.V. like a zombie for three hours. He shivered. Anything to get that dream out of his system.

Aya woke with a start as he felt a strong hand grip his shoulder lightly. Groggy from sleep, his first reaction was to reach for his katana. It wasn't there. He flung the hand off and swiftly stood up in one motion.

"Easy, Aya," said a calm voice. "It's just me."

Youji. A wave of relief swept over him. "What time is it?" he snapped, mentally shaking the last vestiges of sleep out of his mind.

Youji glanced at his watch that doubled as a weapon. "6 AM." He flipped his long hair out of his face.

Aya glared at him. "And you just got home?"

Youji dismissed his question with a wave of his hand. "I slept in her apartment. Don't worry," he added wryly, seeing the look in Aya's eyes. "I actually did sleep. I won't compromise our mission tonight."

Aya had forgotten the mission. How could he? Memories of the night flooded back. The dream. Silently, he turned and stalked into the kitchen. Youji just shrugged and lit a cigarette.

Rinsing the dishes left over from the night before, Aya tried not to remember his dream. It didn't work. Terror gripped him again and he stood poised over the sink, a mug in his hands. The water running down the drain turned red.

"Come on, Aya, we're going to be late!" Youji's voice drifted from his bedroom. "We have the first shift."

Aya let out his breath, shaking. He slowly unclenched his fingers from the mug and set it down in the sink. He turned off the water, noticing that his hands were trembling.

"Aya, come on!" Youji called impatiently from the living room.

That morning in the shop was a routine one. Omi left for school, Ken came down looking bleary-eyed and was immediately dragged off by a gang of children. Youji prattled on to fill the silence that Aya refused to break. Let the others talk. He hadn't had much to say since his sister's accident.

He frowned, fingers pausing midway to the arrangement he was working on. There hadn't been much on his mind except revenge and his sister's recovery. But now Takatori Reiji was dead, and Aya-chan still hadn't woken up. Now that his revenge was fulfilled, he didn't know what to do. He had thrown himself into it fully, concentrating on nothing else. When he had finally killed Takatori, he had lost his purpose. So he stayed with Weiss. Aya snorted. Not that he could leave. Not that any of them could actually leave.

"Oi, Aya," Youji's voice came from behind him. He laid a hand on Aya's shoulder. "Are you all right? You seem kind of out of it."

Aya shrugged the hand off and moved smoothly away. "I'm fine," he said curtly.

Youji gave him a strange look and went to wait on another customer. Aya gave him a dark stare and returned to the forgotten flower arrangement.


	2. Routine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to keep everyone in character as much as possible, but some things from Kenshin are seeping over. I hate to keep you in suspense of who matches who, but that would ruin my story and then you wouldn't read and then where would I be? ;+)

Aya drove on the way to the mission. Youji sat in the passenger seat, drumming his fingers and looking out the window. Growing bored with the view, he reached for the radio dial.

"Leave it off," Aya snarled.

Omi looked up from his laptop in the backseat. Their eyes met in the rearview mirror. Omi's dropped first. Youji just shrugged and turned back to the window, checking to see if Ken was still there on his bike.

Their mission was a routine one. Hit a major drug lord's biggest warehouse, kill all the scientists, and burn it to the ground. Omi was in the heating ducts, keeping tabs on everyone with his laptop. Ken was doing recon around the building. On the roof of the building, Youji and Aya waited in silence for Omi's cue to start sweeping top down.

Aya looked out over the city. His hands gripped convulsively on the railing as he remembered his dream again. Standing there, with his sword in his hand, dripping blood. Blood everywhere, and no matter how many times he washed it still remained on his hands, in his hair, on his clothes. On his face. He touched his cheek, remembering.

"Youji, I'm lost," he said without thinking.

Youji only had time for a questioning glance before Omi's voice came online. "Abyssinian, Balinese, Siberian's in trouble. Use the fire escape on the west side. Get down there now!"

"I read you Bombay," Youji said, already running for the ladder. Aya wasn't far behind.

The stairs seemed to take eternity. They came in behind the guards who had discovered Ken and swept over them. They never knew what hit them. Ken stood after it was over, breathing heavily and holding his left arm. Aya raised his eyebrow.

"I'm fine," Ken met his gaze with a defiant flash in his eyes. "Let's go."

Aya toggled his headset. "Bombay, all systems go?"

"Clean and clear," came the reply. "Let's torch this place and get out."

"Let's do it." Youji pushed his shades up his nose.

"I'm setting the timer for 30 minutes. Security shows all personnel on the lowest level. See you there. Bombay out."

It was just routine. The killing, the running, the dodging, the killing. _I am an assassin,_ Aya reminded himself. He blocked out the screaming of the doomed scientists. _This is my job. This is what I do. This is routine._

They rode in the car in silence, the three of them. Omi insisted on taking Ken's bike after getting a good look at the condition of his arm. Youji sat in the back seat with him and attempted to patch him up while Aya drove. Neither of them asked how Ken had gotten himself in that situation.

Only once did Aya meet Youji's gaze, and in it was the certainty that he hadn't forgotten the roof.

Aya wished he hadn't said it. But it was true. He was lost. He was lost without his all consuming purpose in life. Now Weiss was his purpose, killing was his routine, and his dream was haunting him waking and sleeping. He shut his mind off and drove.

* * *

"Aya, wait," Youji bounded up the stairs after him.

Aya narrowed his eyes at him in the hopes that he wouldn't follow any farther. He could hear the faint sounds of Omi bandaging Ken's arm downstairs.

"Aya, talk to me," Youji grabbed his arm, stopping him in mid stride.

"Don't touch me," Aya growled and wrenched his arm away. "Leave me alone!" He stalked to his room and slammed the door, leaving Youji standing helplessly on the stairs.

"Aya," he said softly. Then louder, "Aya." He pounded on the door. "Aya let me in so we can talk, you bastard!"

Aya sat on his bed and glared at the door. He wished he hadn't said it. Oh God, he wished he hadn't said it. Now he was going to have Youji breathing down his neck. "Shit," he said.

Youji pounded on the door again. "Aya!"

Aya sighed. "Go away! I'm fine."

He could hear Youji slump against the wall. "Well, I'm here if you ever need to, you know, talk." His voice was muffled through the wall, but Aya could still hear genuine concern coloring the tone.

"Don't worry about me," he said clearly. "I'm fine."

"All right," Youji sounded doubtful, but he retreated anyway.

Aya let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and leaned back on the bed. He knew that he had only prolonged the inevitable. Someday he was going to slip again, and then Youji wasn't going to give up so easily.

He rubbed his eyes tiredly and thought of bed. _Shower first,_ he decided, _then bed_.


	3. Letting Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to Missa (my ex-roommate and beta-reader) for lending me her bunny for this chapter. All of mine are permanently on vacation! I hope you all are enjoying my little story, and, as always, comments and criticisms fuel the flames of creation.

Beep

Beep

Beep

Beep

He sat at his sister's bedside, listening to the machines monitor her heart. The IV dripped steadily into her arm. She looked as she always did, but he could feel something was wrong. Something was going to happen. He felt dread rise up bitter in his throat.

The beeping stopped, and Aya screamed. He knew she was going to die when the beeping stopped.

* * *

Youji turned off his alarm and stretched his long muscular body as he rose. He yawned, looking at the clock through bleary eyes. "Shit," he said, running a hand through his unruly hair. "Aya's gonna kill me for being late."

He could hear someone's alarm still sounding in the apartment. Youji wandered out into the living to see where the sound was coming from. "What?" His forehead wrinkled in confusion. He walked to Aya's room and softly rapped on the door. "Aya?" Getting no answer, he slowly pushed the door open.

Aya was tangled in the sheets so much he couldn't move. Sweat beaded his forehead and his fingers clenched the pillow in a death grip.

"Aya, wake up," Youji coaxed, shaking his friend. Aya didn't respond. The beeping was starting to become annoying, so with one hand still on Aya's shoulder, Youji reached over to the alarm and turned it off.

Aya screamed.

"Shit!" Youji stumbled backwards as Aya sat up.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"I heard your alarm beeping, so . . ." Youji trailed off, uncertain of what to say.

Aya still had his head lowered so Youji couldn't see his face. "Get out."

"Aya-"

"Get out!"

Youji gave him one last glance before slamming the door. Aya sat on his bed, his head in his hands, shaking. _It was just a dream. It was just a dream,_ he chanted to himself.

"Just a dream, my ass," he snarled to himself. He swung his legs over the edge and stood up in one swift movement. He had to go to the hospital. He had to make sure she was all right.

She was there, of course. Sleeping peacefully. Or at least he liked to think of it as sleeping. He took her hand and sat staring at her face.

"Aya-chan," he finally said, "forgive me. I can't see you again until I leave Weiss." He bowed his head to gather strength and stood up.

"Goodbye," he whispered.

He didn't look back.

* * *

It was late when he turned heavy footsteps toward the shop. He had walked around Tokyo all day, visiting the places his sister loved. Had loved. He was saying goodbye, letting go. He had just cut his last tie to the living world. Now he truly was a white hunter of the night, hiding in shadows, existing only in dreams.

The setting sun illuminated the buildings, giving them a dusky orange tint. The few people who were walking the streets passed by Aya without a glance. He was good at being invisible.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he almost didn't notice the scuffle in the alley he was passing. A nudge from his assassin's sense warned him, and he looked sharply into the darkness.

Five or six burly men surrounded what looked to be a woman in a martial arts uniform. Her back was to the chain link fence, and he could see the fear in her eyes as she defended the blows. She seemed to be holding her own. Aya wondered if he should get involved.

He was just about to turn away when one of the men scored a lucky hit to the side of her head. She dropped to the ground, unconscious. Aya hesitated. What were they going to do?

When the men began arguing among themselves about who was going to "go first," it became clear. Aya pursed his lips in a tight, thin line and strode toward them purposefully.

"I would recommend that you leave." His voice rang out cold and clear.

The man who seemed to be the leader froze and turned slowly to face him. "Who the hell are you?"

Aya cracked his knuckles. "Weiss." Without warning, he lunged at the man. It had been a while since he had fought hand to hand, but his body remembered the training, even if his mind did not. He danced in and out of them like a boxer, jabbing in unexpected places, playing with them. Then one in a leather jacket studded with spikes pulled out a gun.

"Shit." Aya punched the guy closest to him in the face and assessed his options. Taking a chance, he turned his back on the gun, slung the girl over his shoulder, and vaulted the fence. A white-hot pain shot through his other shoulder and his right high almost at the same time. He dodged around a corner, ducking and weaving until he was sure that he had lost them.

He shifted the girl on his shoulder and gritted his teeth at the pain in his leg. The bullet had only grazed his shoulder, but he was bleeding all over the place. If the goons wanted to trail him, they could. He had faith in his teammates. He just had to get to them first.


	4. Complications

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to leave it at such a cliffhanger, but that only keeps you coming back, ne? I hope you like where this is going . . . it kind of took an unexpected turn there at the end.
> 
> Comments? Questions? Yes please. :+)

It took them a moment to notice Aya leaning in the doorway. Ken had a soccer game on the T.V., and was glued to the set. Omi was tapping away at his keyboard, and had his back to the basement entrance. Flipping idly through a magazine, Youji kept one eye on the T.V. He glanced at the door just in time to see Aya slump to the ground under the weight of a girl.

"Holy shit! Aya!" He bolted out of his chair.

"Aya? What?" Ken looked up from his game. His eyes went wide. "Omi! Get the first aid kit!"

Omi ran up the stairs while Youji and Ken maneuvered Aya and the unknown woman across the floor.

"She doesn't seem to be bleeding anywhere," Ken said as he lifted her onto the couch. "But . . ." He looked solemnly at Aya on the floor.

Youji took charge. "Ken, put pressure on the wound until Omi gets here." He gently removed Aya's boots and something clattered to the floor. Youji picked up the six-inch blade. "Always prepared, aren't you?" he asked the unconscious man.

Omi clattered down the stairs just as Youji was finishing cutting Aya's pant leg off with his knife.

"Just in time, Omi," Ken said. "He's lost a lot of blood."

"There's an exit wound, so at least you won't have to dig out the bullet." Youji wiped off the blade and put it back in its sheath.

"Leave it to me." Omi shouldered them out of the way and got to work.

Youji heard a gasp behind them. He turned to see the girl pressed into the corner of the couch, her eyes wide with fear.

"Who are you?" Her voice trembled, though she tried to hide it.

"Kudou Youji, at your service," Youji bowed with a flourish. "The young man behind me is Hidaka Ken." He gestured toward Omi and Aya. "Tsukiyono Omi, our resident nurse, and Fujimiya Aya, your knight in shining armor."

Her eyes darted to Aya. "What happened to him?"

Youji laid a hand on her shoulder. "He got shot rescuing you."

"What?" She tried to stand up, but his hand on her shoulder prevented her. "What's going on?"

Youji gave an exasperated sigh. "Why don't you tell me, Miss . . ." he trailed off pointedly.

She ignored him. "I -"

Just then Aya's eyes shot open. He tried to sit up, but Omi pushed him down.

"Aya-kun! Stay still if you don't want to bleed to death!" Omi resumed bandaging his friend.

Aya lay still, but his eyes flashed rebelliously. "Where's the girl?" he asked Youji.

Youji just pointed.

Aya turned his head toward the couch. "Who were those men?"

She crossed her arms. "None of your business."

"Correction." His voice was cold. "They made it my business when they shot me. Who were they?"

The girl stared into space stubbornly.

Ken broke the silence that had descended on the group. "Ummm, do you have parents we could call or something? Someone to take you home?"

She hung her head. "My parents are dead. Those men work for the guy that killed them. He ruined my family!" Clenching her fist, she pounded the couch for emphasis.

"Revenge is not as sweet as you think it will be." Aya said as he sat up carefully.

"Sakami Meiko does not need your advice, or your help," she yelled, standing up. "I'm going home."

"I'll show you out," Ken volunteered.

"Thank you, Hidaka-san." She gave a stiff little bow and followed him up the stairs.

"Aya-kun?"

Aya slowly turned his head to look into Omi's worried eyes. "I'll be fine," he said. "Just help me to my room."

"What happened there Aya?" Youji asked as he looped the other man's arm around his shoulder.

"They were going to rape her."

"What?" Omi nearly dropped his other arm.

Youji smiled. "You're too young for these things, Omittchi," he teased.

"Maa, Youji-kun, don't tease like that."

They dropped Aya off at his room still bickering. Youji paused at the top of the stairs. "Are you going to be all right, Aya?"

"I'll be fine." He opened the door of his room and went in. He didn't want to admit it, but his leg hurt like hell. His heart hurt too. _Aya._

He gingerly pulled off what remained of his pants, then drew on another pair. He knew he wasn't going to sleep tonight. He needed to get out of this small space, this space that was closing in on him, these walls that leaned on him until he felt like screaming.

The stairs were a difficult matter. He hissed at the throbbing pain in his right leg. When he reached the roof door, he sagged against it in relief for a moment. His leg had started to bleed again. He contemplated it, and decided it wasn't bad enough to warrant going back down those wretched stairs.

Aya leaned against the railing, looking out over the city. A cool breeze gently blew his hair back. He closed his eyes and savored the sensation. _That girl,_ he thought. _What was it about that girl that made me save her? Why couldn't I just walk away?_

"Weiss," said a nasal voice, making his blood run cold.

He whirled around. "Schwarz."


	5. Ghosts

"Schuldich." Aya's eyes flashed dangerously.

Schuldich spread his hands out in a gesture of peace. "Relax, Abyssinian. I'm not here to fight you."

Aya watched him warily. "Where are the rest of them?"

Schuldich shrugged. "Crawford and Nagi disappeared after you aced Takatori. They're probably hiding from Esset at this point. Farfarello bled himself to death." He grimaced. "I couldn't stop him."

"So you're all alone now." Aya shifted, favoring his injured leg.

"Ah, so the kitten is licking his wounds." In a minute, Schuldich was at Aya's side.

Aya was frozen. He knew he was in no condition to fight. Even at his best, he had trouble keeping up with the telepath. He turned an impassive stare on the other man.

"What do you want, Schuldich? Why are you here?"

Schuldich ran a hand lightly over Aya's cheek. "Your sister is very pretty, Abyssinian." He grinned. "Or should I say _Ran_?"

Aya flinched away. "Get out of my head!"

"But it's so nice in there," Schuldich purred. His breath whispered along Aya's ear. "I know all your secrets."

Uttering a sharp cry, Aya pushed him away. "What the hell do you want from me?"

"I just wanted to check in and see how my favorite Weiss is doing. And to tell him," Schuldich grabbed Aya's shoulders and shook him, "that if he keeps poking into Makoto Keisuke's business, he'll wind up dead."

The German was gone before Aya could react. He slid down to the ground to rest against the railing. _Makoto Keisuke?_ Who the hell is that? He grit his teeth against the pain in his leg. _Think, Aya,_ he admonished himself. He squeezed his eyes shut in frustration and buried his face in his hands. His sister's face superimposed itself over the darkness tingeing his vision.

Schuldich's nasal voice rang in his ears. _"Your sister is very pretty, Abyssinian."_

_What the hell did he mean by that? What is he going to do?_

"Aya," he spoke softly. "I know I promised I wouldn't come back until it was over, but . . ." he trailed off as he struggled to stand. His vision blurred. "I have to get to her."

There was a man standing in between Aya and the door to the stairs. He held his katana in an attack position, although his hands were shaking.

Aya knew this man wanted to keep him away from his sister. He drew his own sword. "Get out of my way."

The man charged. Their swords met in a deadly clash of metal. Aya grit his teeth and lashed out. The man staggered, but came at him again. Aya parried and began to attack fiercely.

The man chanted as he fought, sometimes screaming, sometimes sobbing, but always the same thing. "I don't want to die. No, I can't die."

Aya killed him anyway.

* * *

Youji knocked softly on Aya's door. He knew Aya would probably just yell at him for being a mother hen, but he couldn't help it. He was assassin, for Pete's sake, he could tell when someone was in a great deal of pain.

Opening the door a crack, he said, "Aya, you asleep?"

He peered into the darkness, but couldn't see much. "Aya?" A sinking suspicion began to form in the pit of his stomach. As he pushed the door open wider, a stream of light from the hallway illuminated Aya's bed. It was empty. "Shit." Youji looked toward the stairs to the roof. "That stubborn bastard."

Youji ran up the stairs, noting with concern the small bloodstain on the top step. He flung open the door and quickly scanned the roof. "Aya!"

Aya was standing in a fighting stance, breathing heavily. He narrowed his eyes and charged. Youji watched in amazement as Aya seemed to fight with the air. As he whirled around, a cut appeared on his cheek. The blood slowly dripped down the side of his face. Aya didn't seem to notice. Youji looked wildly around to find the cause of the injury. There was nothing.

Aya charged again, and knocked an imaginary man down to the ground, stabbing his imaginary katana into the ghost's throat. He twisted it cruelly and then looked around with unseeing eyes.

Youji frowned. _What the hell is going on? Aya fighting with no one . . . but that cut on his cheek._ He started uncertainly forward. "Aya?"

Aya blinked and his eyes became focused again. They rested on Youji for a moment before he closed them and slowly crumpled down in a heap.

Youji picked him up and half carried, half dragged Aya to the doorway and down the stairs. "Dammit Aya," he said under his breath to the unconscious man, "I told you to get some sleep."

He laid Aya on his bed and eased off the younger man's jeans to assess his wound. It was just bleeding a little bit, but he rebound it anyway. Youji stared for a moment at the diagonal cut on Aya's cheek. He touched it tentatively to make sure it was real. He rubbed the slick wetness between his fingers. "How did this happen?" he murmured.

Aya awakened as Youji touched the cut again. "Youji." His eyes glittered dangerously.

Youji snatched his hand away. He tossed a bandage onto the bed. It missed to flutter down and rest on the floor. "You might want to look at that." He turned and walked briskly to the the door.

Aya brought his hand up slowly to his face. He stared at the bloody imprint in shock.

Youji paused at the look on Aya's face. "What happened up there?"

"There was a man," Aya said haltingly.

"There was no man," Youji interrupted him. "I was watching. There was no one there."

Aya's eyes were haunted. "There was a man who didn't want to die. He gave me this." He gestured at his cheek.

Youji opened the door. "Trust me on this one, Aya. There was no one there."

Aya looked at him. "Help me, Youji," he said. "It's still bleeding."


	6. Mission

"Those ankles belong to . . . Manx!" Youji pronounced as he lifted heavy metal door back up.

Manx smiled and shook her head. "I'll never know how you do it, Balinese."

He slung an arm around her shoulders and leered at her suggestively. "Why don't you take a night off and I'll show you."

Aya scowled at Youji. "Let's go," he said, heading toward the basement door.

He missed the wry look Manx shot Youji as she deftly shrugged off his arm. "Get Siberian and Bombay and meet us downstairs for debriefing."

"Anything for you." Youji gave her a sweeping, debonair bow and moved to stand at the foot of the stairs shouting, "Oi! Ken, Omi! Manx is here!"

Two doors opened and slammed in tandem as Youji made his way down to the basement. Aya had already taken a seat on the couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him. Manx was cuing the video in their VCR. She turned and waited expectantly for Ken and Omi to settle themselves before pushing play.

Persia's shadowed form appeared and he began his narrative. "Makoto Keisuke is a discerning business man and a good citizen on the outside, but we have reason to suspect that he is involved in a number of illegal activities." The picture changed to show a candid shot of Makoto.

Aya shifted. _Makoto Keisuke? Where have I heard that name before?_

Persia went on, "First, you must find evidence that he is behind the businesses that front drug and prostitution rings." Four shots of buildings were shown in quick succession. "Turn in your evidence to Manx, and Kritiker will decide what to do from there. White hunters in the night, hunt the tomorrow of the dark beast!"

Aya stiffened as he remembered Schuldich's words. _". . . if he keeps poking around in Makoto Keisuke's business, he'll wind up dead!"_

Manx's voice broke his train of thought. "Everyone in?"

He nodded slowly, debating whether to mention Schuldich.

"I'll start the search," Omi said, grabbing the videotape from Manx and heading toward his computer.

"I'll help." Ken trailed after him.

Aya looked from Manx to Youji and back. "Manx," he started carefully.

She gave him her attention. Youji moved to stand behind him.

Aya stood up. "Schwarz may be involved."

He heard Youji's audible intake of air.

Manx merely raised her eyebrows. "I'll make sure Persia is informed. Be careful boys." With that parting shot, she made her way up the stairs and showed herself out.

Youji gave him a piercing look. "Schwarz?"

Aya just shrugged and said nothing as he moved toward the door.

"Aya." Youji grabbed his arm. "Maybe it's time you told me what happened on the roof."

"Maybe it's time you fucked off!" Aya snarled, wrenching his arm away from Youji's grasp. "Don't pry where you're not wanted." He stomped up the stairs.

"How's your leg?" The genuine note of concern in Youji's voice stopped Aya halfway up.

"Fine," he said shortly.

* * *

The truth was, though, that nothing was fine at all. He wasn't really sure what had happened on the roof. He wasn't one to doubt his own senses, but if Youji had really seen nothing, what was he to think? He had even been up to the roof to examine the ground. There was no bloodstain, even though there should have been. The man who didn't want to die . . .

He stood in front of the mirror and gently tugged the bandage off his face. He ran his fingers over the cut. It didn't seem to have healed at all. Still stroking it absently, he sprawled on his bed. The cut was his only proof to himself that there was a man, despite all the evidence to the contrary. It was his only proof that he wasn't going completely crazy.

He suddenly remembered his dream of the samurai killer. He remembered the blood, both on his sword and on his face. The bodies, strewn around him on the street. The rain. _The cross scar._ Aya touched his cheek again. _Could this be . . . connected?_

* * *

Someone calling his name and pounding on the door jerked Aya awake. He rubbed his eyes. _Must have fallen asleep._

He crossed the few steps to the door and opened it silently, interrupting Ken in mid pound.

Ken looked faintly surprised. "Oh, erm, Aya." He shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

Aya merely gave him his trademark impassive stare.

Ken laughed a little and scratched the back of his head. "It's, um, time to go."

"Right." Aya whirled around and slammed the door in Ken's face. He dressed quickly, picking up his katana from its resting place against his bookcase.

They all went in one car, Omi debriefing them on the way to the site. "Ok, I'll see what I can do about the alarms while you two," he said, looking at Youji and Ken, "do recon around the building. Once I disable the alarms, Aya-kun and I will break in and find the computer lab. You guys are backup in case anything goes wrong, all right?"

All three of them nodded. Omi tapped something on his keyboard and brought up a map of the building. "Here's the computer lab," he said, pointing. "This should just be a quick in and out mission."

Ken asked something about security measures and Aya tuned them out. He leaned his head against the cool glass of the window and wondered if Schuldich would be there waiting for him. For them.

He wasn't. Or at least, he wasn't making an appearance as Aya and Omi ran silently down deserted hallways. Aya stood guard at the door as Omi busied himself with downloading files. He was on edge. He didn't like it that it was so quiet, so deathly still.

As if answering his thoughts, two burly security guards came around the corner, talking animatedly. One of them glanced up to see Aya with his katana ready.

The guard only had time for a startled shout as he fumbled for his gun before Aya was upon him. The other guard turned to go get help, and a split second later, he was dead too.

Omi's head popped out from behind the door. "Everything still okay?"

Aya turned to face him and nodded.

Omi's eyes went wide. "Aya-kun, you're bleeding!"

A jolt of surprise ripped through him. He slowly brought his hand up to his cheek, feeling the warm wetness. He stared at the red stripe on his hand, feeling physically ill. "It's fine, Omi," he lied. "Hurry up and finish before the rest of them get suspicious."

"Hai." Omi disappeared back into the lab.

Aya leaned against the wall. _What is going on?_ he thought.


	7. Oleander

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh heh. Well, some of you might not like what's coming up but I promise you that that's the way the story has to be!! Just trust me on this one. As always, I love to get reviews, comments, criticisms and praise. :+)

"Ano, Hidaka-san, wasn't it?"

Aya glanced up at the familiar voice. _The girl I rescued? What is she doing here?_ He edged behind a display case and shamelessly eavesdropped on the conversation.

"Ah, Sakari, uh, Makami, uh," Ken stuttered.

Aya shook his head. Ken was always so bad at names.

The girl just gave a slight smile. "Sakami Meiko," she said, as she gave a small bow.

"Heh, right." Ken scratched the back of his head and scuffed his shoe on the floor. "Well, Sakami-san, what can I help you with?"

It was Meiko's turn to look embarrassed. "I'd like to get Fujimiya-san something to apologize and thank him for what he did. I behaved badly when I stomped out of here before."

Aya stiffened behind the display case. This girl, this _girl_ , wanted to give him flowers?

"He's here today," Ken said, glancing around the shop. "I don't see him, he must in the back somewhere." He started in that direction.

"That's all right," Meiko said quickly. "Can you chose the flowers and deliver them to him, Hidaka-san?"

"Sure," Ken said, smiling easily. They both wandered over to look at the flowers on the other side of the shop.

Aya took that chance to slip into the storeroom and out the back door. Youji was leaning against the wall, lazily smoking.

"Your break's over," Aya said. "Go back and help Ken." He wanted to avoid being in the shop as long as the girl was there.

"What?" Youji took a drag on his cigarette. "I haven't even been out here ten minutes yet. Go away."

Aya just grunted and sat down on the steps. He could feel Youji's eyes boring into the top of his head. "That girl is in there."

Youji lit another cigarette with his last. "What girl?" He dropped the butt and crushed it under his heel.

"The girl I rescued."

"Mmm. Why'd you run away?"

"Because I don't want to talk to her. I don't need another girl coming to me for help all the time." Aya smiled slightly when he thought of Sakura, now safely back in her old life.

"Oh. What did she want?"

Aya winced. "To buy me flowers."

Youji laughed once, and then fell silent. They stayed like that, companionably, listening to the cars go by on the street. "You're talkative today," Youji said at last.

"Aa."

He grinned and stubbed his cigarette out on the wall. "Well, break time's up."

Aya waited until he was sure the girl was gone before he went inside and snuck up to his room. Either Ken or Youji had guessed his destination, because Meiko's bouquet of flowers was waiting for him in front of his door. He took it inside and examined the card.

'Thanks for everything. Sakami Meiko.' It said in looping cursive. Ken had done a good job of choosing the flowers. Camellia and Canterbury bells for gratitude, and what was that, oleander? _Oleander for danger,_ he thought darkly.

* * *

Aya stood on the roof, leaning against the railing. He savored the cool wind ruffling his hair, and thought of his sister. She had never been afraid of anything, living life with a vibrancy that touched many. He could hardly bear to picture what she had been, when now she was so lifeless and still. He sensed a presence behind him, but didn't move. He knew who it was.

"You think too much about your sister, Abyssinian," said Schuldich.

"Go away."

Schuldich's voice sounded dangerous. "I don't want to go away."

Aya heard him take two steps closer. "If you don't like my thoughts, then don't listen to them," he said.

"On the contrary." Schuldich leaned on the railing a few feet away. "I find your thoughts quite fascinating."

Aya said nothing. He looked moodily down at the busy traffic below. The cars and people seemed very far away. Far away from him, and from his sister. _All those people, going on with their petty little lives, living their sorrows and their dreams. None of them know or care she is alive._

Schuldich inched closer. "So, you think she's still alive," he said in a conversational tone. "You're wrong."

Aya gave him a swift glance, his eyes shooting daggers. "I don't believe you."

Schuldich was staring nonchalantly into space, whistling softly.

Aya's hand crept toward his katana. He had learned not to come up here unarmed after the German's last visit.

"You don't believe me?" Schuldich smirked. "Then I'll show you." As before, he moved too quickly for Aya to react. Suddenly Schuldich's hand was on his forehead and the ground dropped away from his feet. He could feel the telepath wrap his free arm around him to keep him upright.

Aya was disoriented, spinning around and around sickeningly fast. Then, he was in a black void. It stretched on endlessly, barren. He felt the emptiness drag at the very core of his being, as if it wanted to suck him in too. This place was a hollow echoing shell. He turned around and around, seeking a way out of that desperate space. He cried out when he realized there was no exit. He was stuck. Forever. He was trapped in a mindless black abyss.

Then he was back on the roof, sagging down to the ground as Schuldich abruptly loosened his hold.

"That's what I saw when I looked in her mind," he taunted. "She's been dead all this time, and you've bloodied her name keeping her alive." His laughter echoed off the buildings and disappeared toward the sky.

Aya uttered a sound of pure animalistic rage as he sprang from his crouching position on the ground. Schuldich evaded him easily, still chuckling.

"Well, I hate to bring bad news and run, but I've got places to be." The German vanished the way he had come, quick, silent, and efficient.

Aya sank to his knees again, his body wracked with gut-wrenching sobs. He knew it was true. He pounded the rough concrete with his fists, not caring about the pain. She was dead. He could feel it in his bones. That was pain enough.

* * *

"Our man on the inside has confirmed the data that you collected," said Manx, handing them new mission folders.

"You have a man on the inside?" Youji was incredulous.

"We weren't sure of him before. Now that your information corroborates his, we know that he is trustworthy."

Ken flipped through the papers in his folder. "Are we going to be working with this guy?"

"You'll meet him eventually. He will lead you to Makoto once you have destroyed the other buildings. Can you do it all in one night?" She straightened her jacket, getting ready to leave.

Omi frowned. "Most likely. The logistics are a little tough, but I think if we split up and then meet where Makoto is hiding, it could work."

"Good." Manx paused at the edge of the stairs. "Good luck boys. If you take this man down, you will be doing the human race a great service."

Aya sat on the couch, staring blankly at the folder Manx had placed in his hands. He couldn't think of anything else but what Schuldich had shown him. He had considered that Schuldich might be lying to him, but he could not fathom a reason for it. And what he had been shown had felt too real to be faked. He remembered the blackness that had threatened to engulf him. Was this what his sister was enduring while his stubbornness refused to let her go?

"What do you think, Aya-kun?" Omi's voice interrupted his train of thought.

He looked up in confusion.

"Omi thought that Youji and me should pair up, and you and him, since that would give us one short and one long range weapon on each team," Ken explained.

"Fine," Aya said shortly. He stood up. "Fill me in later."

Youji half rose to stop him. "Where are you going?"

"Out."

The three other assassins sat in silence as he walked heavily up the stairs and slammed the door behind him.


	8. Killing Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Chapter Eight. Oi, it looks so long in word . . . and not so long here. Oh well.

He can't see. He is deaf. His body is numb with pain and cold. He wipes ineffectively at the blood trickling from the cut on his cheek. It has been bleeding steadily since he set foot on this forsaken mountain. To save her - it has all been to save her, and in so doing, save himself. Yes, she is his salvation.

He can smell the metallic tang of his own blood, and he can smell his enemy. He senses more than sees the man. This is his last . . .

He charges, giving his all for the woman who saved him. All of this killing, on the cold remote mountain, was for her. Because he would give up everything for her.

As his sword meets flesh and he hears the dying gasps of the man, a different smell mixes with the blood. White plums. No.

He drops his katana in the red snow and takes her into his arms. Her eyes turn toward his face as they glaze over. She almost looks happy? His mind is reeling with what he has done.

"No, Aya, no. Don't leave me now."

She just smiles her quiet smile and suddenly there is a knife in her hand and she is cutting his cheek. He is long past feeling the pain. His blood drips down onto her face as her eyes close and she sags in his arms.

"Aya, Aya, AYA!"

* * *

Youji stumbled and leaned against the wall next to Aya's door for a minute. His own door looked very far away across a hallway that swayed and rolled like a ship on rough seas. He was tempted to sleep right there on the floor, but he didn't think his teammates would appreciate stepping over his hungover body in the morning.

"One too many, Kudou," he gently admonished himself. Gritting his teeth, he managed to stand without one hand on the wall. He tentatively put one foot out and took a step. The hallway lurched and he hit the wall hard. Giving up, at least for the moment, he slid down the wall and put his head in his hands. He would just sit here for a while until the hallway started behaving like a normal one should.

"TOMOE!"

Youji jerked awake. "What the hell?" He scrambled to his feet as Ken stuck his head out of his bedroom.

"Did you hear that?"

Youji rubbed his gritty eyes. "I think so." He shook his head, but he couldn't seem to make his brain function properly.

"It sounded like Aya. Maybe-"

Ken was interrupted as Aya flung his door open, looking wild-eyed. He gave them both a deliberate stare, challenging them. Blood oozed from between his fingers, and he pressed his cheek harder as he stalked toward the bathroom.

An unspoken agreement flashed between Ken and Youji. Ken closed his door softly as Youji slipped into Aya's bedroom to wait.

* * *

Aya leaned against the cool mirror in the bathroom and fought down the urge to vomit. His blood steadily dripped onto the white countertop, making soft plopping noises. He inspected the fresh cut on his cheek. It intersected the other one, making a large X on the left side of his face. The bleeding had slowed a little, so he stuck a band-aid on it.

When he had asked them at the hospital to take his sister off the respirator, he felt as he were the one suffocating. They assured him that she felt no pain. He couldn't even stay and watch. He felt like a murderer, watching his sister die.

 _No feeling about it,_ his inner voice said. _You are a murderer. You're a cold-hearted killer. You just killed the only person that meant anything to you, the only thing that kept you going._

Aya squashed an impulse to punch the mirror. She was dead anyway, he comforted himself. But it didn't work for long. He remembered his dream, and how she had died by his own hands, in his arms, her blood leaking over the snow. How she had smiled up at him . . .

A choked sob escaped him and he crumpled to the cold tile, beating his fists weakly on the floor. _How could I?_ A fresh sob racked his body, and tears pooled on the ground. _How could I just let her go? How could I let him convince me to give up hope so easily? Why did she have to die? Aya, oh Aya . . ._ His mind disintegrated into sorrow.

After those brief moments of indulgence, he sat up and brushed the wetness from his cheeks. Now he truly was only waiting to die. His face took on its usual closed expression and he tightened his lips against the pain.

_Someday, Aya, I'll pay for my sins._

Youji was waiting for him, smoking a cigarette by the open window, when he got back to his room. Aya didn't even acknowledge his presence. They both knew why he was here.

Taking a last drag, Youji flicked his cigarette out the window. He lit another, then glanced over to where Aya sat on the bed. "Who's Tomoe?" he asked finally.

Confusion swept over Aya's face for a few seconds before his usual wall slammed down. "Tomoe?"

"You screamed out her name." Smoke curled lazily above Youji's head. "Before you came out of your room."

Aya stared at his hands. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Both Ken and I heard it."

Aya said nothing, merely laying down and studying the ceiling.

"Aya, what's happening to you?" Youji asked softly.

He clenched the bedspread with both fists, fighting down his rage. Rage that he was still living when he so obviously deserved to die. "I had a dream about my sister."

Youji moved to stand above him. "Her name is Aya."

"I know that!"

"So why Tomoe? And why that?" Youji pointed to the bandage on Aya's cheek.

"Look, I don't know what the hell is going on. Just get out." Aya turned his back toward Youji and faced the wall. His eyes burned.

"I'm only trying to figure out whether you're going to slip up and get one of us killed."

Aya was at his throat in an instant. He twisted Youji's shirt painfully and grit out, "All the people I care about are already dead." He propelled him toward the door. "Now. Get. Out."

Youji knew he was walking a fine line between Aya being royally pissed off and Aya killing him. He put his hands up submissively and let out the breath he was holding as Aya loosened his hold on his shirt. "Fine, fine." He stepped into the hallway. "We're your friends Aya, just remember that."

Aya slammed the door.


	9. Schuldich

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah! This chapter took me FOREVER to write. The fight scene was really hard . . . I just couldn't get the mood/feel I wanted. I hope I achieved it . . .
> 
> A lot of this fight comes from the Rurouni Kenshin anime, episode 30. IMO, it's the coolest fight in the series, but that could be just because Saitou is deliciously evil. I have to say, I stole some of the dialogue directly from the fansub. I like to give credit where credit is due :+)

He couldn't sleep. Youji's words kept running through his head as he paced the small confines of his bedroom. _"Who's Tomoe? What's happening to you? I'm only trying to figure out whether you're going to slip up and get one of us killed."_

_"We're your friends, Aya, just remember that."_

Growling in frustration, he shrugged into his trenchcoat and grabbed his katana. He needed to exhaust himself. Only then would he sleep without dreams.

Aya slipped along the hallway like a ghost. Faint music came from Youji's room, but the other two remained silent.

He paused at the foot of the stairs, looking back at the darkened hallway. Dim light seeped from under Youji's door, beckoning him to come closer. He took a step toward the sanctuary it offered before he realized what he was doing.

_"We're your friends, Aya."_

_"We're your friends."_

_"Friends."_

Whirling around before he could give in to his urge, Aya almost ran up the stairs. Something inside him was pushing him toward the roof, breathing, pulsating within. He flung open the door and savagely threw his sheath aside.

It was almost dawn when he stopped drilling himself. He stood winded in the middle of the roof, prickling with the sensation of new morning. The air moved gently through his jacket where he had draped it over the railing.

He was kneeling to retrieve his sheath when Schuldich materialized in the doorway. Aya was on his feet in seconds.

"Don't worry, Abyssinian," Schuldich shrugged out of his coat and drew a katana from a scabbard on his back. "This is just a business call." The coat pooled into liquid green on the ground next to his feet.

Then he charged, and Aya rolled out of his way, coming up quickly, ready for anything. "How is it," he asked, "that you can use a katana?"

"Let's just say I borrowed it from someone," Schuldich mocked, running toward him again.

Aya grit his teeth and jumped in the air, aiming for Schuldich's head. But Schuldich was ready for him, and the German's sword pierced his right shoulder. Schuldich tossed him easily to the side and Aya knelt where he fell, breathing heavily.

"You may have avoided getting skewered," said Schuldich, flicking his blade free of Aya's blood, "but that doesn't mean I won't adapt to you next time."

Aya's vision phased in and out as Schuldich came at him once more. He ducked under the telepath's katana, spinning around to attack Schuldich's unprotected back. The German, as usual, was one step ahead of him.

"That won't work!" he yelled, punching Aya in the face and sending him reeling against the wall next to the stairwell. "My sword and I have had a long, personal relationship." He tensed his body for his next attack and grinned. "You are helpless before it."

Aya crouched on the ground, his eyes flashing dangerously. His focus narrowed, as his world became the fight and Schuldich. He clenched his fist around the hilt of his sword.

"Stand up!" Schuldich commanded. "Your second attack was stronger than the first. Stand up!"

Aya stood. "Here I come," he said simply.

Schuldich's eyes widened slightly as Aya ran toward him. "So fast," he murmured. Suddenly, Aya ducked and vanished, reappearing behind him. Before Aya could strike at him, Schuldich lashed out with his foot, sending the red head flying again. Aya somersaulted, coming to rest on the balls of his feet. He supported himself with his free hand on the ground, panting, while his sword hand tightened on his blade.

"I didn't think anyone could move as fast as me, kitten." Schuldich grinned. "This is actually proving to be interesting."

Aya shuddered as he felt something stir within him. _Let me out._

_Who are you?_

_Battousai . . ._

He felt a strange calm wash over him as he let his consciousness slip away. A killing rage filled his mind, another being possessed his body.

 _Things have changed._ The Battousai's throaty voice was like velvet against his mind. _No matter._

Schuldich started as Aya stood up and opened his eyes. _What the hell?_ he thought wildly. _Those eyes . . ._ The German took a closer look at his opponent. The assassin's eyes had turned from their normal violet hue to an otherworldly yellow. He made a cursory foray into his opponent's mind. It was completely different. This was not the mind of Fujimiya Aya, assassin. It was the mind of a cold-blooded idealistic killer. A killer who was very, very good at his job.

Aya's throat emitted a war cry he had never heard before as he ran toward Schuldich. Their swords clashed together with the force of their entire bodies behind them. The tip of Schuldich's katana whirled through the air and embedded itself into the ground. As Schuldich looked disbelievingly at his sword, Aya heard himself say, "You're next. I'll cut you in two."

He felt his body rush forward again. Schuldich threw his broken sword at him, aiming to distract. Aya knocked it away with the back of his hand. He didn't feel the pain. If he countered, he would have left himself open to the German's attack. His sword was pressing at Schuldich's throat when a voice rang out over the rooftop.

"STOP IT!"

Aya seized control of his body once more and turned to face Manx. Youji, Ken, and Omi were standing in a group behind her, open-mouthed.

"Snap out of it Aya! And you," she turned to the German, who was grasping his neck and looking warily at Aya, "you were only supposed to gauge his fighting ability, not get yourself killed!"

"Just because I'm with Kritiker," Schuldich said, gaining his composure back, "doesn't mean you'll be allowed to interrupt."

"What did she mean, gauge his fighting ability," Youji wondered.

Ken and Omi exchanged wide-eyed glances. "He's with Kritiker?" Ken stuttered. He clenched his hands into fists and took a threatening step forward.

"I won't let you waste your life, or Aya's," Manx said.

"So Kritiker's the one pulling the strings here," Aya said, retrieving his sheath. "What do they want from him?" He jerked his head toward the telepath.

"I'm sorry to make you go through that. But we desperately needed to know your true abilities. You're our best chance at beating Makoto, Aya."

Aya glared coldly at Manx. "I don't like being used," he said.

Schuldich picked up his jacket. "That's my cue to leave," he said, moving toward the railing.

"Wait, Schuldich!" Manx stopped him with a gesture.

"My report," he said, mock saluting her. "Fujimiya Aya does not have the skills to bring down someone such as Makoto Keisuke. But, whatever did this," he gestured to the thin cut on his throat, "has the potential to be very effective. That's all." He vaulted over the edge of the roof and disappeared into the morning sun.

"Manx," said Ken darkly.

"Relax, Siberian, and let me explain myself." Manx flipped her brilliant hair out of her eyes. "Schuldich will keep Makoto unaware of your attacks on his holdings until it is too late. He will also lead you to where Makoto is hiding."

"And we're just supposed to trust this guy? Aren't you forgetting he was with Schwartz?" Youji looked doubtful.

She smiled grimly. "He has his reasons to want to stay hidden from Esset. You've already accepted this mission, you can't back down now." Manx turned to address Aya. "Makoto Keisuke is a phenomenal swordsman, Abyssinian. Kritiker is counting on you to stop him."

Aya nodded briefly and disappeared down the stairs, his jacket slung over his shoulder. The rest of Weiss followed their leader, each deep in his own dark thoughts about their upcoming mission.

"I just hope they are enough," Manx said softly to herself, as she lifted her face up to the sun.


	10. Meiko

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is a little short. The next part is long and juicy, I promise.

Aya wandered aimlessly around the small park. He remembered a time when Aya-chan had loved to come here. His expression darkened. It didn't matter anymore, because Aya-chan wasn't going to wake up. She was dead.

"Ah, Fujimiya-san?" asked a tentative voice behind him.

He turned around in surprise. "Sakami Meiko."

"Oh you remember me!" Her face broke into a smile. "What a coincidence to run into you here, Fujimiya-san."

He hated formalities. He wasn't worthy of respect. "Just call me Aya," he muttered as he scuffed his shoe on the dirt path.

"Then you must call me Meiko." She took his arm. "Shall we walk, Aya?"

He stiffened at the contact, but couldn't pull away for fear of wrenching his injured shoulder. It had only been a few days since his fight with Schuldich. And only a few days remained before the mission to defeat Makoto Keisuke.

"I feel like I have to apologize again for my behavior," Meiko said as they walked arm and arm around the path.

"Don't."

She gave him a strange look. "You don't talk much, do you?"

"No." He resolutely avoided her eyes and looked at the cultivated flowerbeds instead.

She was undeterred by his stony silence. "So, do you come here often?"

"My . . . sister liked to." He focused on the path again.

"Liked? Did she grow up and move away or something?"

"She's dead."

"Oh no! I'm sorry!" Meiko squeezed his arm. "I always seem to say the wrong things to you. I'm so sorry Aya."

He said nothing, merely steering her toward a bench and gently disentangling himself. They sat in an uncomfortable silence until Meiko spoke.

"My brother used to take me here when I was really little. He disappeared twelve years ago, when I was eight." She sighed. "Now I'm trying to find him. He's the only family I've got."

Aya felt a pull of sympathy toward the girl. "When my parents died, my sister was the only thing that kept me going for a long time," he said quietly. "I understand how you feel."

Meiko leaned against his shoulder and he winced despite himself. She quickly sat up. "I'm sorry, did I hurt you?"

"Don't worry about it. I just twisted it training."

"You train? For what?"

He contemplated her wide-eyed, eager gaze. "Kendo," he said finally.

"Really? My brother was the star of the kendo club in high school."

Aya ran his hands through his hair. "I started after high school."

"Why then?"

"It was something to do."

They sat companionably. Meiko seemed to sense that he wasn't willing to talk about himself anymore. She rambled on about her family and her childhood while he listened with half an ear.

A shrill ring shattered the air of contentment the afternoon had brought. Aya flipped open his cell phone. "Hai."

Omi's tinny voice sounded strained. "Aya-kun, where are you? Ken-kun wants to go play soccer and Youji-kun is nowhere to be found."

Aya started and looked at his watch. He was late. "I'm sorry, Omi," he said. "I'll be there in ten minutes." He snapped his phone closed and turned to Meiko.

She held up her hand before he could speak. "It's okay. I really enjoyed talking to you, Aya."

"Aa." He stood with her.

She looked suddenly nervous. "Well, I guess I'll see you later."

He nodded.

Meiko stood before him a minute longer, then leaned in and kissed his cheek briefly. "Ja ne!" she cried over her shoulder as she hurried away.

Aya stood in shock, one hand on his cheek. "Ja ne," he said softly.


	11. Tenchuu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tenchuu: I found this word in the Rurouni Kenshin manga in Book 18. The storyline is Enishi's Jinchuu. Tenchuu - the favorite word of the Isshin Shishi (the assassin group Kenshin belonged to during the Bakumatsu when he was the Battousai). It means the judgment of heaven or "justice is on our side, we will bring down heaven's judgment with our own hands."
> 
> I see tenchuu as being Weiss's doctrine. They bring down evil when the normal avenues of justice cannot suffice. Tenchuu is also the Hitokiri Battousai's doctrine, so this makes it easier for Aya to let the Battousai take over.

"Ok, this is where we split up," Omi turned to face Ken and Youji in the back seat. "After you finish here, go destroy the third building. Aya and I will meet with Schuldich and scope out Makoto's hiding place."

Ken clenched his fist. "I still don't like trusting that guy. He was Schwartz!"

"And he tried to kill Aya," Youji pointed out.

"More like Aya tried to kill him," Omi said dryly, glancing at their recalcitrant teammate.

The three of them stared at Aya, as if expecting an answer. He remained silent, doggedly avoiding his teammates' eyes.

"Well, it's not like we have a choice," Omi said, opening his door. "We may have reservations, but Kritiker seems to trust him."

"Yeah, yeah," Ken grumbled as he got out of the car and stretched. "I guess we'll just have to wing it."

Omi tapped his earpiece. "Everyone have their comms on?"

They all touched their ears and nodded.

"Let's go," Aya said.

* * *

"What happened to you?" Schuldich asked, leaning casually against the alley wall.

Aya brought his hand up to his cheek. The damn thing was bleeding again. "Nothing," he said shortly. "Are you ready?" He tried to wipe the blood off his face, but only succeeded in smearing it around.

"Of course I'm ready," the German shot back. "I've been standing around waiting for your sorry asses for hours."

"Where's Makoto?" Omi broke in before Aya could retort.

"All I can give you is this map of the building." Schuldich handed them a hastily folded piece of paper. "I've marked your route on it. I have to get back before Makoto misses me."

"What about Siberian and Balinese?" Omi bit his lip. "They'll need a map too."

"Don't worry," Schuldich tapped his head and grinned. "I'll meet them when they finally show up."

Aya was suddenly impatient for this mission to be over. "Let's go, Bombay," he said, unfolding the map.

"See you on the other side." Schuldich winked over his shoulder and jumped to the roof.

* * *

He and Omi wouldn't have found their way without Schuldich's map. They raced through endless maze-like corridors, each one filled with doors and guards. Omi dispatched most of them effortlessly, while Aya took care of the rest. He wasn't feeling winded, but the short duels made his barely-healed shoulder wound open up again. He ignored the pricking sensation as they continued.

"Bombay, Abyssinian," Ken's voice crackled through his earpiece. "Balinese and I are entering the building. How far ahead?"

Omi checked his watch. "Around fifteen minutes, but we had to take care of some guards along the way. Shouldn't take you that long."

"Roger," Youji's voice this time. "We're right behind you. Don't wait up."

Aya could almost see Youji's cocky grin.

/Shut up down there./ Schuldich's nasal voice invaded his mind. /Noisy kittens attract nosy dogs./

/Our radio frequency is undetectable./ Omi's thought flashed along the telepathic link.

/That's what _you_ think, Bombay. I'll set up a network. It will work better./

/Can you do that without compromising your position?/ Aya cut in.

/Easy as pie, sweetheart./ Abruptly, Schuldich retreated, and a second later, Aya could feel the minds of Weiss at the edge of his own.

/Does everyone read me?/ Omi cautiously thought.

/Loud and clear./ Ken.

/Roger that, cap'n./ Youji.

/Copy/ Aya sent.

/Get going, Weiss./ Schuldich's thought crawled nastily across their minds. /I can't keep him blissfully ignorant forever./

/We're coming/ Omi sent.

All pretense and jokes aside, they ran grimly toward the culmination of their mission.

* * *

Aya opened the door a crack and quickly took stock of his surroundings. He and Omi were standing inside the staircase on the edge of the roof. At the opposite end stood Makoto, talking easily to Schuldich. He hadn't noticed the door opening. Grouped around him were a few bodyguards and what looked like a girl. Aya squinted at her. With a start, he realized who she was.

/Schuldich, that girl/ he sent.

To his credit, Schuldich didn't even look around to see where they were. /Don't know. Balinese and Siberian are almost caught up. Don't move until I get there./ He said something to Makoto and walked purposefully across the roof. As he opened the door, Ken and Youji jogged up the rest of the stairs.

/Siberian, Bombay, come with me. Balinese, stay and back up Abyssinian./ He smiled wryly. /Not that you'll do any good./

Aya bristled at Schuldich for taking control of his team. "Where are you going?" he ground out.

/Idiot! Use the link, dammit! Do you want to get us caught?/

Grabbing Schuldich's shirt, Aya pushed him against the wall. His eyes bored into Schuldich's. /I am the one in charge here./ They all could feel his rage leaking into their network.

Schuldich held up his hands in mock surrender. His eyes flashed with amusement, and his grin never faltered. /Relax. I just want them to help me set charges./

Aya abruptly let go of Schuldich and turned away. /Let's go, Balinese./

/Hai./

* * *

Aya grit his teeth as Makoto Keisuke's katana met his with jarring force. Makoto was very good. He was going to be hard-pressed to beat him.

"I won't allow you to get in my way!" Makoto growled. "My dreams will be fulfilled!"

"I will stop you," Aya said coldly, readying himself to attack again.

Makoto chuckled. "You can try." He rushed forward, the force of his attack knocking Aya off balance.

He leapt away just in time, but Makoto anticipated his move, and modified his attack. Aya's eyes widened in shock as Makoto's katana pierced the same shoulder that Schuldich had wounded. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. Makoto withdrew his blade, and Aya fell to his knees on the ground, clutching his shoulder.

"Aya!" Youji took a worried step forward.

Aya made a dismissive gesture with his hand, and levered himself up with his katana. His blood dripped to the concrete. Without a word, he ran toward Makoto. Something moved deep inside him, a sibilant whisper in his ear. Their swords clashed five times in quick succession, each one building in speed. Makoto dodged them all, except the last.

Makoto knelt on the ground, blood flowing freely from a wound on his leg. He struggled to stand.

"Shi-ne," Aya said as he brought his sword up.

"Wait!" A body threw itself in front of Makoto.

"Meiko?" Aya was taken aback by her sudden plea.

Anguished tears streamed down her face. "I didn't know," she sobbed. "He's my brother, Aya. My brother. He's the only family I have left. Please don't kill him!"

Aya hesitated, then slowly started to lower his katana. "Get out of my way. I don't want to hurt you."

Makoto sneered. "You're too kind. The fight will continue." As if in slow motion, Makoto's blade sprouted from Meiko's chest and continued into Aya's stomach. Her mouth opened in a silent cry as her hands scrabbled at the katana protruding from her body. Just as slowly, Makoto withdrew his sword.

Aya's sword clattered to the ground as he fell. "You want to win so much," he gasped, "that you would kill your own sister?"

"Onii-san," Meiko whispered, her blood covering them both. "What did you do?"

"Don't worry, little one," Makoto stroked her hair. "I'm here."

She breathed a little sigh, and her eyes drifted closed. Makoto pressed a kiss to her forehead, then struggled to stand, using his katana as a makeshift cane.

Youji stood, frozen in his tracks. It was as if a great weight were pressing him into the ground, and pressing in at all sides. He couldn't even lift his little finger. He searched Aya's prone form for a sign of life, but all he saw was a dark, ominous, spreading stain. "You bastard!" he managed, as Makoto stood up.

"That was almost pathetically easy," he said as he flicked the blood off his katana. "Take care of him," he told his guards, waving his hand carelessly in Youji's direction.

Youji gulped. This was not good, not good at all. /Schuldich!/


	12. Mission's End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote most of this part listening to War of the Last Wolves from the Rurouni Kenshin OAV soundtrack. If you haven't heard it, it's a great piece of music!

The metal door burst open with a clang, and Youji saw a blur of red and white before a shoulder barreled into his stomach, sending him flying. His head bounced off the ground, and stars of pain burst in front of his eyes. The staccato noise of bullets hitting concrete echoed in his ears.

"Shit." Schuldich's voice was right next to his ear. "What the hell did you get yourselves into, Weiss?"

Youji could only mumble incoherently as he struggled to sit up, gingerly touching the back of his head. There was a lump there the size of Mt. Fuji. "Can't you mind blast them or something?"

Schuldich dusted his coat off. "Not unless I want to ruin your minds as well, Balinese. You kittens don't have shields."

Youji scrubbed his face. "What are we going to do then?"

Schuldich pulled a katana out of a sheath on his back. "I'll distract him. You go try to wake up sleeping beauty over there."

"Are you crazy? He'll kill you in seconds!" Youji swayed on his feet, but at least he was standing.

Schuldich grinned and tapped his head. "You forget, I'm a telepath." He disappeared behind the wall that was affording them cover.

Youji gave a short bark of laughter. "Right."

* * *

He was standing on a hill. It was twilight, everything tinged blue-black. A breeze blew his coat away from his legs and ruffled his hair. He blinked as he saw a dark smudge across the sky. "Who are you?" he asked, reaching for his katana. It wasn't there.

"Battousai."

It was him. That voice, that other being who invaded his mind. "What do you want from me?"

The figure moved closer. The moon, just rising, glinted off his high ponytail. "Nothing. I can save you."

"I can't be saved." He lifted his face upward. "I am a murderer."

They were standing face to face now. The Battousai's yellow eyes gleamed in the darkness. He shied away from that piercing, intelligent gaze.

"Do you want to die?" The ghost's voice was all around him, caging him in.

"I have nothing left to live for. The only one I loved is gone."

The night exploded before his eyes. He raised a hand to his throbbing cheek in bewilderment.

"You are too afraid to die!" The Battousai's otherworldly eyes flashed.

"I'm . . . afraid to die?"

A hand cupped his face gently. "You've killed so many people that you don't value your own life. Live your life, Aya. Don't be afraid to die. Don't be afraid to live." The Battousai's voice was almost wistful.

Faces from his past flashed in front of his eyes. His parents, his friends, his sister. Omi. Ken. Youji. The night wavered as his eyes overflowed with tears. "Help me to live," he pleaded.

"I will help you defeat Makoto. After that, you will be alone." The Battousai's strong arms lifted him up and embraced him.

Aya felt a chill as the shorter man melted into him. He closed his eyes.

* * *

Youji's eyes widened as a furious wind swept across the roof, nearly knocking him off his feet. His mouth dropped open as Aya stood up. His eyes were still closed.

"Schuldich!" Youji shouted, frantically gesturing at his teammate.

Both Schuldich and Makoto stood transfixed as Aya's eyes snapped open. They gleamed yellow. He sheathed his katana.

"Your time is over, Makoto Keisuke." His voice was cold and distant.

Makoto laughed as he strode forward. "Fool," he spat, "It will never be over as long as I wield my sword!"

Schuldich grinned. "Welcome back," he murmured. "Let's hope you're strong enough to finish the job."

Aya's eyes flickered toward him, then focused on Makoto again. He poised his hand over the hilt of his katana. "Here I come."

He sprang forward at the same instant Makoto did. _Omi, Ken, Youji. I will not fail you now._ A foreign name sprang from his lips, even as his body moved in a dance that was strange to him. " _Ama kakeru ryu no hirameki!_ "

His sword was a blur, but Makoto's was just as fast. "Is that all you have? I win!" Makoto grinned. He lifted his blade to attack Aya's unprotected back as he followed through on his swing. Suddenly Makoto's feet slipped. "What is this?" Makoto struggled against the current of air.

A battle cry he had only heard once before was torn from Aya's throat as he completed his turn. His katana sliced cleanly through Makoto's neck. His face was splattered with the rain of blood as he dropped to one knee, using his blade to support him.

He stared at the ground. "Even if one evades the fangs of the dragon by soaring high, they get drawn in by the furious wind, then are shredded by the claws." His body shuddered as the Battousai's presence left him.

Aya came back to himself. "Tenchuu," he whispered.


	13. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe it's finally finished. It's been a really great experience to write this. It was my first fanfiction, and IMO, it turned out pretty well. I hope that all of you have enjoyed reading it. Thanks to everyone who encouraged me and sent me reviews and threatening emails (:+), especially Missa and Charlemage. Now I go work on some of my other fic ideas!
> 
> Everlasting pea - go not away; Hyacinth - sorrow

"Youji," Aya said.

Youji paused in mid-stride. "Nani?"

Aya sat on the couch, staring down at the ground. "What . . . happened that night?" His voice was strange, halfway between a sob and a whisper.

Youji sat down heavily next to him. It had been a few weeks, but he knew he would remember that night until he died. "We thought you were dead. Well, except Schuldich, I guess. He told me to go wake you up while he distracted Makoto. Then, all of a sudden, you stood up and, well . . ." he searched for the words, "you were different."

"I was different," Aya repeated.

They sat in silence.

"He hasn't come back, has he?" Youji asked, picking at a loose thread in the couch cushion.

Aya's hand went involuntarily to his cheek. He traced the scars. "No, he hasn't."

Youji turned to face him. "Good."

Aya kept his eyes on the floor. "Aa." He could feel Youji's eyes on him. They burned.

"You saved us Aya, you really did." Youji shifted again, digging in his pocket for a cigarette.

 _No, he saved you. And me._ Aya stood abruptly. "You're all I have left," he said softly. He strode out of the room without looking back.

* * *

He closed his eyes as the cool breeze caressed his face. Up on the roof was still his sanctuary. It had been three weeks. Three long weeks. He let out a long, deep breath and stared at the city below him. His hand crept to his cheek as his thoughts drifted to the samurai that had saved him. Saved him, and saved his friends. The scars were fading now. He bowed his head in grief for the two girls who had died. _Why? he thought. Why did she have to . . ._

A hand covered his as it gripped the railing. He snatched it away as if it burned. "Don't touch me," he ground out through clenched teeth. Still looking down, he said, "Leave me alone, Yotan," softer, more apologetic.

"Yotan, is it? You two are getting awful close." Schuldich grinned.

Aya clenched his fists. "Get out of here."

"I think we got off on the wrong foot." Schuldich ran a hand through his unruly hair. "I just wanted to say . . . " he trailed off and shifted uneasily. "Well, shit, Aya, I'm sorry about your sister."

Aya's head snapped up. His eyes bored into Schuldich's, looking for the truth. When he found it, he turned back to the cityscape below. "Thanks," he said.

* * *

Aya knelt in the dew-wet grass, fingers tracing the kanji that spelled her name. "I wish it had been me instead of you," he whispered.

He lay down with his head pillowed on her gravestone and scowled at the clouds above him. She had always liked the rain, and he could never understand why. She was so sunny and cheerful all the time. In his opinion, rain was depressing. _All the worst things in my life happened in the rain, Aya-chan. How could you love it?_

He had lived for his sister for so long that when she was finally gone he had been lost. He had floated, confused, not knowing where to turn in the darkness that was his life. But the Battousai's coming had changed all that. He had showed Aya a new focus for his life, and new purpose.

He still wasn't ready to value his own life yet. He didn't think that would ever happen. He was a killer. He was, however, not afraid anymore. He wasn't afraid of death, and he wasn't afraid of his life either. Aya hadn't realized until the Battousai had shown him that he had been living a life of complete terror. No, the correct term was not living. It was existing. He had existed in terror.

To not be afraid any more meant he could live his life how he wanted to, for himself and others. While Aya didn't believe in himself, he did believe in his teammates. Like it or not, they were there for him in ways that he couldn't see before. And he had finally resolved to be there for them.

His shirt stuck to his back as he stood up. He grimaced and pulled the damp fabric off his skin, flapping it to dry it a little. He touched her marker one more time and then walked toward the car. The light pink of everlasting peas and dark pink of hyacinths were the only spot of color in a gray-green world.

Aya stopped in the doorway of the living room. Ken and Omi were playing some video game, and Youji was half paying attention to them.

He looked at Aya quizzically. "Aya?"

"Tadaima," Aya said. _I'm home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic used to be titled The Past Again. I never liked that title. I came up with it because I wanted to post my story and needed a title. All the time I was writing, I was searching for another title. I was thinking really hard about I had a little epiphany, if you will. So I changed my title to Synchronicity. I thought I'd give my reasoning, in case anyone was interested:
> 
> I took a Theories of Personality class last semester, and one of the theorists we studied in depth was Carl Jung. He has a principle in his theory called synchronicity. Synchronicity accounts for events that are related through meaning rather than by the usual cause-and-effect sequence. In other words, synchronicity explains meaningful simultaneity. For example, say you and a friend have a conversation about someone you haven't heard from since you graduated from high school/middle school/college (a long while). The very same night, you get a phone call out of the blue from this person. Talking with your friend about this person did not make them call you, nor was the call anticipated by your conversation. Nonetheless, these two events are linked together for us because of the meaning.
> 
> This may not sound like it totally relates to my fic, but bear with me for a second. Connected to synchronicity in Jung's theory is a level of consciousness called the collective unconscious. The collective unconscious holds images and ideas that have been common to all members of humanity since the beginning of time. These images and ideas are not concrete. Rather, they are possibilities of action, predispositions to responses, and potentialities of shaping experiences. Jung believed that for the collective unconscious, time is relative: future, present, and past are one. To use my previous example, you might find the coincidence of the person calling a little uncanny, but to the collective unconscious, it was a certainty - it experienced both your conversation and the phone call simultaneously.
> 
> In my opinion, Synchronicity embodies more of what I was trying to do with the story than The Past Again does. Also, I just think that The Past Again was a really BLAH title - it doesn't intrigue me at all.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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